EXT. CLEARING - DAYSnow drifts across the bodies of the fallen dead. Eightcorpses lie frozen on the ground-- men, women, and children,wearing heavy furs. The wind whips through their long hair.At the edge of the clearing, WILL (20), a young rangerdressed all in black, surveys the grim scene from the back ofhis gelding. He gathers his reins and guides his horse south.EXT. FOREST - DUSKWill rides hard between the towering pines, his horse’shooves kicking up fresh-fallen snow.He comes to a halt and dismounts beside two tethered horses.His comrades, GARED (50) and SER WAYMAR ROYCE (18), crouchbeside a stream, filling their skins with cold water. Theyrise and look to the newcomer expectantly.Ser Waymar is gray-eyed and graceful, with an aristocrat’sair of command despite his youth. He wears a supple coat ofgleaming black ringmail and a lush sable cloak.Will and Gared also wear the black of the Night’s Watch, buttheir clothes are far less regal, their leather and furbattered from hard usage. Gared wears a hood for warmth.WILLWe should start back. They’re alldead.Gared offers Will his water skin and Will takes a drink.SER WAYMARAny blood?WILLNot that I saw.SER WAYMARHow close did you get?WILLClose enough to see they was dead.SER WAYMAR(skeptical)Or sleeping?GAREDIf Will says they’re dead, they’redead. We should head back to theWall.SER WAYMAR(with the hint of a smile)Do the dead frighten you?GAREDMormont said we should track ‘em.We tracked ‘em. They won’t troubleus no more.SER WAYMARYou don’t think Mormont will ask ushow they died?He walks toward his horse. Gared and Will exchange a troubledglance.EXT. EMPTY CAMP - NIGHTMoonlight shines down on the clearing, the ashes of thefirepit, the snow-covered lean-to. If there were corpses onthe ground before, they’re gone now.The three riders enter the camp. Their horses seem spooked,as if they smell a predator nearby.SER WAYMARYour dead men seem to have movedcamp.Will looks around, confused. He knows what he saw.WILLThey were here...Spotting something shimmering on the ground near the firepit,he walks his horse closer, dismounts and looks down.Lying at his feet is the hilt of a steel longsword. The bladehas been shattered into a thousand shards.Will stares at the shattered sword. He knows what this means;the dread on his face is unmistakable.From his horse, Gared looks at the ground. The indentationswhere the bodies once lay are still visible-- as are thefaint but unmistakable footprints leading away from them.GAREDWe have to move. Now.He is interrupted by a neigh. Will’s horse, riderless andpanicked, bolts from the camp site.2.Ser Waymar’s horse rears back on its hind legs, throwing itsrider to the ground before galloping after the first horse.Gared struggles to keep his own horse under control. SerWaymar stands unsteadily, brushing the snow from his cloak.WILL(terrified)Gods...He’s staring into the darkness at the edge of the clearing.Ser Waymar turns to see what the young tracker sees: a shadowemerging from the forest.A figure steps into the moonlight, tall and gaunt, with fleshpale as milk. It slides toward the rangers on silent feet.Its armor appears to be carved from ice. Its sword istranslucent, a shard of crystal so thin it almost seems tovanish when seen edge-on.Ser Waymar’s voice cracks like a boy’s:SER WAYMARStay where you are!The OTHER keeps coming. Ser Waymar draws his sword withtrembling hands. Will, standing near the fire pit, and Gared,still on horseback, draw their own swords.The Other halts. For the first time we see its eyes, bluerthan any human eyes, a blue that burns like ice.They emerge silently from the shadows, on all sides of theclearing. Five of them... six... seven... their strangeswords shimmering in the moonlight.Gared can no longer control his panicked horse; it bolts fromthe clearing, ignoring its rider’s commands.The Others watch Gared flee. They turn back to Ser Waymar andWill and begin to advance on the young men.As the circle closes, the Others speak to each other in alanguage we’ve never heard, with voices like cracking ice.Waymar and Will stand together, class distinctions forgotten,two boys about to die. They steady their sword hands andmutter quick prayers as the Others descend upon them.CREDIT SEQUENCE3.CLOSE on a pair of ancient, gnarled hands writing a messageon a small parchment scroll. The old man (we never see hisface) tightly rolls the scroll, binds it with a black ribbon,and ties it with a leather strip to the leg of a BLACK RAVEN.The old man lifts the raven off his desk; it flaps its darkwings and flies out of the open chamber window.The raven flies away from Castle Black, a large and ancientfortress dwarfed by what lies behind it: the Wall. Older thanhistory, this is the 800-foot-high barrier of ice and stonethat guards the northern edge of the Seven Kingdoms.As the raven gains altitude, the landscape below itTRANSFORMS into a map of Westeros. The Wall is revealed tocross the entire continent, a boundary between the HauntedForest to the north and the civilized lands to the south.The raven flies south over the map, on which the cities,regions and features of the land are named: Winterfell, theKingsroad, Moat Cailin, the Riverlands, the Vale of Arryn.Occasionally the bird dips down, and the map resolves backinto reality for just long enough to give us a view of somepoints of interest: Winterfell’s old stone towers, full ofcold beauty. The foreboding Eyrie castle high atop the Valeof Arryn, a feat of montane architecture that would have beenimpossible for medieval engineers.When the raven reaches King’s Landing, the map resolves backinto reality as the bird drops down into the dirty sprawl ofthe capital.The raven flies through the open gates of the Red Keep, amassive compound with red walls the color of blood. The birdflies through an open window into the throne room, to land onthe Iron Throne itself-- a throne built from the hammeredswords of a thousand defeated enemies.The raven pecks at its wings, cleaning itself after the longjourney, alone in the empty throne room.END CREDIT SEQUENCEEXT. HILLTOP - DAYLORD EDDARD “NED” STARK (40) sits on his motionless horse,his long brown hair stirring in the wind. His closely-trimmedbeard is shot with white. He has spent half his life trainingfor war and the other half waging it, and his face conveysboth authority and a haunted sadness.4.He is accompanied by a dozen members of the HOUSEHOLD GUARD,all on horseback. Over their heads flaps the Stark banner: agray direwolf racing across an ice-white field.South of the Wall the grass is still green and the sun isshining, but the air is cold enough to cloud the breath offour guardsmen as they escort Gared toward the stump of amassive oak tree.Weeks have passed since we saw the ranger but he seems tohave aged years, his eyes bloodshot and weary, his facehaggard, his clothes filthy and torn.Ned’s sons, JON SNOW (17), ROBB STARK (17) and BRAN STARK (sit on their own horses (a small pony in Bran’s case).Jon is slender, darker than his half-brothers, his eyes blackand watchful.Robb is big and broad, with fair skin and reddish-brown hair.Bran sits very still, watching the doomed man. He has neverseen an execution before. The prospect of it terrifies him,but he tries hard to imitate his father’s solemn expression.The Guardsmen force Gared’s head onto the stump. Neddismounts.His ward, THEON GREYJOY (19), hands over Ned’s sword: Ice, abeautiful weapon, centuries old. Theon is the only man in theparty wearing a kraken sigil instead of a dire wolf.Ned peels off his gloves and hands them to JORY CASSEL (30s),a bull-necked warrior with a heavy mustache.Ned walks to the stump. He speaks in low tones to Gared, whoresponds. We watch this exchange from the boys’ perspective.Gared’s final words clearly trouble Ned, who studies thecondemned man’s face, judging his honesty.Bran watches from afar, his head slightly cocked, trying tomake out what Gared is saying.There is a great weariness in Ned’s eyes as he places bothhands on the hilt of his greatsword.

Now go to sleep in Chasms deep with Darkness allaround you.Though Rock and Dread may be your bed so sleep myBaby Dear.Now comes the Storm but you'll be warm the Wind willrock your Basket.The Crystal's fine will glow Sublime so sleep my BabyDear.And with a song it won't be long, you'll sleep my BabyDear.

Now go to sleep in Chasms deep with Darkness allaround you.Though Rock and Dread may be your bed so sleep myBaby Dear.Now comes the Storm but you'll be warm the Wind willrock your Basket.The Crystal's fine will glow Sublime so sleep my BabyDear.And with a song it won't be long, you'll sleep my BabyDear.

Now go to sleep in Chasms deep with Darkness allaround you.Though Rock and Dread may be your bed so sleep myBaby Dear.Now comes the Storm but you'll be warm the Wind willrock your Basket.The Crystal's fine will glow Sublime so sleep my BabyDear.And with a song it won't be long, you'll sleep my BabyDear.